


mind the shadows in your mind

by NotSummer



Series: Yelenti Mercenary Band [2]
Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Asexual Character, Asexuality, Bad Flirting, F/F, Flirting, Politics, Uneasy Allies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-13
Updated: 2017-09-13
Packaged: 2018-12-27 08:23:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12077283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotSummer/pseuds/NotSummer
Summary: Panic overtakes the Citadel after the Geth rebellion, but some see an opportunity in the chaos.





	mind the shadows in your mind

The Citadel was chaos incarnate: shouting, yelling, mobs, chaos, and worse: touching. All the touching, was it really necessary to display panic? It was far easier to wave your hands about and shout than to grab someone and shout in their face.

Tavi snarled as a Quarian grabbed her arm, “Did you hear? Oh you must have, it’s all over the extranet!”

“Would you people stop touching me?” Tavi let loose a barrier, expanding around her to form half a yard of empty space around her. “Goddess, but no one has any sense of decency anymore.”

“The quarians have been driven off their own planet! There is a war going on, and all you can worry about is someone touching you? Asari _ikketh_.” A salarian hissed at her, and Tavi stared coldly back.

“Do not mistake my love of personal space for apathy. I do not… deal well with people in my personal space, and when I don’t deal well with something, it normally involves biotics.” Frost layered every word, and the Salarian who spoke up started to stutter out an apology. “Leave it,” Tavi snarled, turning her back to head for a taxi stand.

“Get me to the Presidium, if you can in all this commotion.” The turian nodded at her, and the taxi glided away, Tavi settling deeper into the seat as she tried to calm her overworked nerves. Her stomach twisted as she fought for control over her breathing and anxiety, but slowly, the last of the panic receded. By the time she swiped her credit chit on the fare meter, she was back to her normal self, and she beamed at the taxi driver, thanking him for the ride. Perhaps she could find answers from calmer minds in the Council.

Making her way to one of the balconies overlooking the spacious Council Chambers, Tavi drew a striking figure, with her deep purple skin darkening to black on her crests and bright red tattoos over her face. She enjoyed standing out, making herself known.

It was exactly what no one suspected of an Ardat Yakshi.

The doctor who diagnosed her when she was in her forties was dead, a panicked overpowered Warp and the body lost in the seas for the great t’allaki fish to feed on. She didn’t want to spend her life cooped up, and besides, _salarians_ had higher sex drives than her. Tavi was certifiably asexual. The meld was _never_ going to be a problem.

Ever.

She hoped. She’d made it 500 years, after all- she was even a Matron, now. And while sex-repulsed Asari were rare, they weren’t unheard of, finding an ally for acceptance with the salarians.

Of course, sex-repulsed Ardat-Yakshi were even rarer. And no one wanted to look into ancient records of Ardat Yakshi, lest they be suspected of hiding something.

So Tavi stayed out of Asari space where the justicars roamed, and she kept to the fringes of civilization, working as a tech expert and occasional mercenary work. There were very few matrons who remained mercenaries, but those who committed to being a merc for life?

They were very _very_ good, and very _very_ rich.

Tavi K’ai did not particularly enjoy killing, nor did she enjoy fighting. But she could see the necessity of it in a dangerous galaxy such as this.

A lilting asari voice rang through the chambers as the woman addressed the Councilors, and Tavi blinked in surprise. Behind the asari was a krogan, and a female at that. Krogan weren’t allowed on the Presidium, much less the Council chambers.

Unless…. No. The Councillors weren’t thinking of making another spectre. Were they?

And then the Salarian Councilor started the speech, spoken each time a Spectre is named, about the honor and the duty of the spectres, as well as all they would be called to accomplish.

Tavi lingered long enough to take note of the utter bafflement on the new Spectre’s face, and then disappeared. There was a window of oppurtunity in front of her, and she could not afford to miss it.

* * *

 

“A spectre. Me?” N’iala scowled, kicking at a food wrapper someone had failed to throw away. “I’m not-”

“You are,” Yvar grunted.

“Our _entire_ merc band was killed, Yvar. We just got-”

“-Lucky?”

“One of these days, you’re going to stop inter-”

“No.” N’iala scowled, and Yvar grinned, continuing, “Our merc band died. I mourn them, but we proved ourselves by surviving, and then rescuing who we could. They won’t appoint a krogan Spectre, but an Asari who held a barrier around civilians for over an hour? You’re far more… attractive.” Yvar ran her eyes up and down N’iala’s form, making her point with a toothy grin.

N’iala blushed, but she smiled. Reassured, Yvar patted her shoulder, and continued pushing the crowds out of her way. “Let’s see if Spectres get discounts at bars.”

“They do,” someone assured them. N’iala turned around to see another Asari smiling at them. “Of course, not all of them. And the discounts differ per store. Salarians and Asari managed stores tend towards higher discounts.”

“And how do you know this,” N’iala questioned, “Are you a Spectre, too?”

“No, just a mercenary, dear. I’m Tavi K’ai.”

“N’iala V’sora. And this is Weyrloc Yvar.” N’iala went to shake the woman’s hand, but a sheepish expression crossed the matron’s face as she held her hands up.

“Apologies. I’d shake your hand, but I’m… very sensitive to touch. Not a fan.” Her grin was wry, and N’iala nodded, smiling at Tavi. Reassured, the other asari turned to Yvar, “It’s a pleasure to meet you as well, Weyrloc Yvar. May your enemies tremble before you.”

Yvar’s mouth ticked up, amused. “An asari who think’s she’s krogan?”

“I worked with Blood Pack in my maiden years. It’s been awhile since I worked with a krogan, but it’s not an experience anyone forgets.” For the elegance the neatly dressed woman exuded, there was a hard edge in her eyes, a sense of danger N’iala couldn’t quite shake.

“Ha! Truer words have never been spoken. N’iala does say I’m pretty unforgettable.” Yvar ended her statement with a leer at N’iala who just rolled her eyes. Tavi snorted, then blushed, her dark purple skin turning nearly black to match her crests.

N’iala stayed silent, studying Tavi, who returned her gaze once she had controlled her mirth. “What did you really need, K’ai?”

“You’re a Spectre. The Council will expect you to find your own resources and weapons, your own ships and intel. I can help with the resources, ships, and weapons, not so much the intel.”

“And what do you get in return? What strings are attached?” Yvar demanded, stepping forward to stand in front of N’iala.

“I come with you. I fight with you. You use your Spectre authority to get me new tech toys to play with. I’ve got more money than I know what to do with, and I’m the last of my family. I have no interest in children or lovers, but I want to leave a legacy.”

“A spectre’s life is dangerous,” N’iala answered dubiously, “You’d work with us for _toys_.”

“And… one other small thing,” Tavi admitted. “Eclipse and Blood Pack are… butting heads on Ilium. I have a friend in the middle of it. Good practice for you to wield your new authority, opportunities to protect the people who might get caught in the crossfire…”

N’iala hesitated. The Council had yet to assign her a mission in the uproar over the geth, but…

They could call if they needed her.

“Alright. I’m interested.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not... super happy with this, but I needed to introduce Tavi, and it's not going to get any better from where it was, so I decided to hell with it, and threw it up.


End file.
